Chapter 9

Because of the whole episode with Deborah taking more happy pills than prescribed and leaving the kids at church, she wouldn’t have dared drill Lynox about sitting next to Helen on the very day it happened. It had been too soon. Well, now it was later. She’d already gotten to the bottom of the whole Klarke issue, so since she was already at the bottom, she might as well stay there and continue digging at the surface.

“In church, you were sitting by her. There were tons of other vacant seats you could have sat down in, and yet you sat down and decided to praise the Lord with her,” Deborah said.

“You’re kidding me, right? First Klarke and now Helen.” Lynox picked up a pen on his desk and threw it across the room. “Darn it, Deborah!” She had totally put the brakes on his creative juices. There was no way he was going to be able to get his mind right and dive back into his work.

Lynox’s abrupt action startled Deborah. She jumped.

“Are you bored? Is that what it is?” Lynox asked.

“Don’t try to get sarcastic with me. Just answer my question.” Startled by Lynox throwing an object across the room or not, Deborah wanted answers. He could throw however many pens he wanted. She wasn’t letting him be until she found out everything she wanted to know.

Lynox stared at Deborah momentarily. “I don’t even know why I continue entertaining you, but since we’re already at the circus . . .” His wife was wearing him out. “For your information, I was already sitting down when the usher led Helen and her son to my row. What was I supposed to do? Get up and leave?”

“If an usher sat someone who is crazy”—Deborah used her fingers to make quotation marks when saying the word crazy—“and who I despised next to me, you dang right I would have gotten my black butt up and gone and sat somewhere else.”

“Well, I didn’t. I thought that would have been rude. Besides, I was there to keep my eyes on Jesus, not her.”

“So when Pastor Margie did what she always does at the end of service and told you to hug three people before you left, did you hug her?”

Lynox stared at Deborah. So far he’d made it through her questioning without having to lie, but in this case he knew the truth might push Deborah over the edge. Even so, Lynox was a straight-up kind of dude. He didn’t believe in telling a lie to prevent the hurt the truth might cause. Everything always came to light, and when the truth behind a lie finally did, its uncovering would hurt even more than the truth itself.

“Did you hug Helen?” Deborah demanded.

“Yes, I . . . I think so. Her and her son,” Lynox stammered.

Deborah cringed at the thought of Lynox’s arms wrapped around that heifer. “Keeping your eyes on Jesus, huh? You are such a joke. A clown. You are indeed a clown at the circus you just referenced, and now you’re trying to clown me. Here you were a few nights ago, ranting and raving about how Helen was crazy and you don’t do crazy. I guess it’s okay to hug crazy, though. The way you were talking, if the usher had sat her next to me, I would have gotten up and gone and sat somewhere as far away from that woman as I could. Guess you were just talking.” Deborah used both her hands to make a talking gesture.

“You’re the one who is just talking, and you’re talking crazy.”

Deborah snapped her head back and put her hands on her hips. “Oh, now I’m crazy again?”

“I’m not going to do this with you, Deborah. I love you, but, baby, we got to figure out what’s going on with you, or else—”

“Mommy, the baby is crying.”

Both Lynox and Deborah looked at the top of the steps to see Tyson standing there.

Lynox turned back to his computer. Even though Deborah had surely stifled his creativity, he was still going to try to get some work done, even if it was only replying to fan mail.

“Or else what?” Deborah said in a loud tone as she walked up on Lynox.

“Go get the baby,” Lynox said in a warning manner. In other words, he was telling his wife that it would be better for them both if she got out of his face and went to tend to the baby.

“No. Not until you tell me what you were about to say. Or else what, Lynox? What you gon’ do? Say it.” Deborah’s voice got louder and louder as she stepped to her husband.

“Deborah, you need to go get the baby,” Lynox said in a “You better go somewhere” tone.

“You get him.”

“Fine. I will.” Lynox stood up and headed for the steps.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Deborah charged behind Lynox, huffing and puffing. “You will not try to walk away and get out of this. You son of a b—”

Lynox stopped and turned, causing Deborah to run smack into his chest. He was not about to let her call him out of his name yet again. She’d already called him dumb. No way was he going to allow her to insult his mother in an expletive directed toward him.

“Ugh!” Deborah shouted after slamming into Lynox’s chest. She then covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes watered from the throbbing pain in her mouth.

“Let me see.” Lynox pulled Deborah’s hand away from her mouth.

“Get away from me.” She snatched her hand away and put it back over her mouth, but not before Lynox could see that her lip was bleeding from her tooth having cut it.

The sound of crying coming from the top of the steps reminded both Lynox and Deborah that Tyson was still standing there . . . and had watched everything that had just transpired.

“Mommy!” Tyson cried out. He then looked at Lynox with an angry face. “You hurt Mommy.”

Deborah brushed past Lynox and climbed the steps. “Mommy’s okay, baby,” she said, her voice muffled from her hand still covering her mouth. When she reached Tyson, she placed her free hand on his back and escorted him up the steps that would take them to the next level of their home. “Mommy’s okay. It was just an accident.”

Lynox could hear Deborah consoling their son. In disbelief about what had just taken place, Lynox sat down on the steps and ran his hands down his face. His and Deborah’s life together had been no picnic. There had been Helen, who had first tried to break up their relationship, and then there’d been Tyson’s father, who had actually broken up their relationship. Even when they got back together, they hadn’t simply picked up where they’d left off. After a game of cat and mouse, or perhaps dog and cat in their case, they had finally been on good enough terms where they could share a meal together. Lynox had been first in catching Deborah up on his life during the time they were apart. He’d shared with her that he’d dated a couple of women who potentially would have been great life partners, but that his deal breaker was a woman with kids. He did not want to have to deal with baby daddy drama and “You’re not my daddy” drama. Lynox had dropped this bomb before Deborah had the chance to tell him that during their time apart, she’d actually given birth to a son, Tyson.

Poor Deborah had given herself a nervous breakdown by trying to jump through hoops to keep Lynox from finding out that she had a child. In the end, though, Lynox had learned to love Tyson as if he were his own son. With Tyson’s father having passed away in an earthquake over in Chile, where he had been playing professional basketball, there had been no baby daddy drama for Lynox to contend with. And there had been no “You’re not my daddy” from Tyson, either, given that Lynox was the only daddy he’d ever known. And even though Lynox hadn’t gone through the court system with Deborah to legally adopt Tyson, Tyson still called Lynox “Daddy.” That was something he had started doing on his own, even before Lynox and Deborah got married. And only a few months ago, when Deborah had sat Tyson down and explained to him that Lynox wasn’t his biological father, the boy had still refused to call him any other name but Daddy.

As Lynox sat in the basement, thinking about Deborah’s actions recently, he wondered if he should start legal proceedings to officially adopt Tyson. That would make it a lot easier for him to get custody, or at least visitation rights, if he ended up having to file divorce papers on Deborah. Lynox loved Deborah. God knew that much. But in the past couple of weeks he had been pushed pretty hard and had come close to putting his hands on her. He’d always promised himself something: before he hit his wife or cheated on her, he’d leave her. Deborah already thought he was cheating on her. He’d been inches away from retaliating physically. Deborah was slowly but surely pushing him close to the edge. . . . And a promise was a promise.

***

“My man, Mr. National Bestselling Author himself.” Reo greeted Lynox, then stepped back into the foyer to allow Lynox into his home.

“And my man, Mr. International Bestselling Author,” Lynox said as he walked into the house. He looked around. “What a huge difference from when I was here a couple of weeks ago,” Lynox said. “Your wife had it looking like a hotel ballroom or something. Now it looks like a real home. I can feel the love.” Lynox started bouncing his shoulders, acting silly.

“Aw, you know I try, man.” Reo rubbed his chin with pride. “Naw, but I can’t take the credit. The wife makes it her business to make this place feel like home. My baby and I might have gone through hell and back to be together, but now life is like heaven.”

Lynox looked down and nodded. He wished he could say the same about himself and Deborah. Yes, they’d been through hell and back to be together, but it still felt like hell. Well, for about a year it had felt like heaven. They had been newly married, both of them had been striving in their careers, Deborah had found out she was pregnant, and then she had had a healthy, bouncing baby boy. Even after the baby was born, things had been lovely, but it had been very short lived. Perhaps the extra responsibility brought on by the baby had been a little too much for Deborah. Maybe Lynox could have helped out more. But how would he have known to help if she never asked? He wasn’t exactly sure who or what was to blame for the state of his and Deborah’s marriage, but he was sure fault lay with him somewhere.

“Hey, you all right?” Reo asked with his always happy-go-lucky self.

Lynox didn’t respond. His mind was too far away as he thought about his and Deborah’s issues.

“Hello. Earth to Lynox.”

Upon hearing his name, Lynox snapped out of his daze and looked up. Reo stood there, looking as if he was waiting on Lynox to respond to something. “Huh? What?” He gave Reo a “Did I miss something?” look.

“You cool? You were, like, a million miles away a second ago.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I’m good,” Lynox lied, and it was clear to Reo that he was, in fact, lying.

“Come on. Let’s go out to the patio for a minute, before we get to working on our proposal,” Reo suggested.

Lynox shrugged, conveying that he was cool with that.

“It’s this way.” Reo led him through the foyer to a space off the kitchen and then out the sliding doors and onto the patio.

“Wow. It’s as beautiful out here as it is inside.” Lynox stood on the brick-laid patio. Over to the right was a round patio couch. Across from that was a brick wall for sitting, and in the middle was a fire pit. To the left was a patio table with an umbrella and chairs. Straight ahead was a bar, a grill, and a cooking area. Looked like someone could live right outside.

“Deborah and I are definitely going to have to step our decorating game up. Heck, both inside and outside the house,” Lynox said. “It’s just that we’re both so busy, we don’t have time to settle down and focus on stuff like that.”

“Make time, my friend,” Reo said to Lynox as he walked straight over to the bar. Behind the bar was a refrigerator with double glass doors. One could see everything stacked neatly inside without even having to open the door. Reo pulled it open. “Brewski or wine?” he asked Lynox.

“I’ll take a beer.”

Reo looked back over his shoulder and gave Lynox the side eye. “I got some Cîroc back here if you want that.” He nodded at the bar. “By the way you were looking inside the house, you may need something a little stronger.”

Lynox held both his hands up and made a sour face. “Oh, no. I’m good.”

“You sure, bro? Going once, going twice . . .”

“Beer will suffice,” Lynox assured his pal. “You mind?” he asked Reo as he went to sit over on the couch by the fire pit. Lynox’s father had taught him that a man always asked permission to sit in someone else’s home.

“Oh, not at all. Make yourself comfortable,” Reo said as he grabbed a bottle of beer for both himself and Lynox. Reo walked over and handed Lynox a beer, then went and sat down on the brick wall seating area, taking a swig from his bottle. He allowed Lynox to take a drink from his own bottle before he dove right in. “I’m really excited to be working with you on this project. I want to create a proposal and an outline that are solid.”

“Same here,” Lynox agreed.

“When we walk into my writing cave, that’s the only thing I want to be on our minds.”

Lynox nodded. He could tell where Reo was about to go with this.

“You know the saying ‘Don’t take your work home’? Well, since you’re a writer, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that we can’t take what’s going on at home to work. Something’s weighing you down. I’m a perfectionist when it comes to my craft. With this project in particular, I know that it’s not only my name on the line, so I’m going to make sure that I’m focused, that I have no distractions and nothing blocking my creativity.” He took another swig of beer. “Something tells me that at the moment, you can’t say the same.”

Lynox looked down at the beer he was cradling in his hands. He took a swig, then sat the bottle on the edge of the unlit fire pit. He thought for a moment, exhaled, and then spoke. “It’s me and Deborah,” Lynox began, then thought better of it. He stood. “You know, maybe this isn’t a good time in my life. As much as I’d give my left arm to actually be able to work with a legend in this game, my idol, I’d give my right to make things good with my wife.”

“Is it something you want to talk about? I mean, I know you and I aren’t homies that go way back or anything like that, but I’m here. Your words are safe with me. Promise I won’t write a story about you.”

Reo’s last comment brought out a chuckle in Lynox. Writers were good at writing about what they knew first and foremost, even if it was what they knew about somebody else.

Lynox thought for a moment. Perhaps hanging out with one of the fellas wasn’t a bad idea. Here he’d been telling Deborah that maybe she needed to make some friends, hang out, and have some other women to talk to. Maybe he should have been listening to his own advice and been spending some time in the company of men. Who knew? God could have brought Reo into his life for such a time as this. It was possible that they were supposed to be something more than writing partners. A confidant outside of his home didn’t sound so bad.

Since reconnecting, both Lynox and Deborah had made life about themselves . . . their family. There had been no couples’ night, no girls’ night out for her, and no night out with the boys for him. Having someone to talk to besides each other might be a good thing. With that thought, Lynox sat back down.

“Things are crazy between us,” Lynox said, picking his beer back up. “We’re arguing and fighting about every little thing. Even things that aren’t there. She picks, picks, and picks.”

“My grandmother used to tell me that it takes two people to argue,” Reo said. “So surely, you’ve got a part in there somewhere, right?”

Lynox shrugged. “I mean, yeah, I guess. But I have to respond to what she’s throwing at me. I can’t just stand there and take the hits.”

“No, but you can stand there and listen. If what she has to say calls for a response, then reply in a non-argumentative manner. It’s called giving thoughts to your ways. You can’t act or react to things based on emotions and circumstance. Don’t let other people determine how you’re going to act. Always remember that you have the right to remain silent.” Reo let out a chuckle as he thought back to something. “I did that for about three months with Klarke—I remained silent—before she got tired of hearing herself.”

“Nah. This is different.” Lynox shook his head. “You don’t understand. Deborah has . . .” Lynox paused. He was rethinking whether or not he wanted to talk about his wife to Reo.

Reo had been right in saying that he and Lynox weren’t homies. They had corresponded through social media more than anything. Reo’s book release was the first time Lynox had ever been to his home. Reo had never been to his. Sharing this beer was the first non-work-related thing the two men had ever done together.

Some men didn’t seem to confide in other men about any and everything as freely as other men did, and as women generally did, and Lynox was one of them. But there was something about Reo that came off as genuine, and Lynox couldn’t imagine Reo betraying his trust by putting his business out there, verbally or in a book. Lynox felt a sense of peace come over him, so he went ahead and continued with the discussion at hand.

“Deborah has had some issues in the past where she had to be prescribed some medication to deal with life situations. I understood all that going into our marriage. She’s a full-time mother, a wife, and she edits, she agents, she goes to church, and she takes care of the home. That’s a lot, and before me, she was doing it all on her own.” Lynox stared down into his beer bottle. “I hate to say it, but even with me around, she’s still doing pretty much all of it on her own. I’m putting out two books a year, so my life consists of writing, marketing and promoting, touring, and then writing again.”

“You know, I understand all that,” Reo said. “But you guys have little ones. At least Klarke and I have only one teenager at home to deal with. We have one kid off to college, and Vaughn and HJ are grown.” Vaughn and HJ were the two stepchildren Reo had inherited when he married Klarke.

Reo and Lynox had quite a lot in common. Lynox, too, had inherited a stepchild. Lynox and Deborah had had a breakup, only to make up again, and so had Reo and Klarke. In between those breakups, babies had been conceived. The difference with Reo and Klarke, though, was that they had weathered the storm for years and seemed to have come out of it pretty well. Lynox was pulling out his umbrella, trying not to get too wet.

“Deborah’s emotion had been on level ten lately,” Lynox said.

“Maybe her doctor should consider changing her medication dosage or her prescription, period,” Reo suggested. “It’s not unheard of that a medicine can stop doing what it’s supposed to do. She could need something stronger.”

Lynox shook his head. “She doesn’t even really take her old prescription anymore. When she found out that she was pregnant with our second child, she stopped taking the pills. That was a year ago. She was good up until a little while after having the baby. I suppose things have been going downhill since, I never paid as much attention to this as I am now. Then, not too long ago, she tried to self-medicate by taking some of her old pills. She took too many. It was a mess.” Lynox shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. It’s like she’s happy there for a second, then depressed one minute and anxious another. Up, down. Up, down. Like a horse on a carousel.”

“Sounds crazy.” Reo realized what he’d said and put his hands up in his defense. “She’s not crazy. I mean the situation sounds crazy.”

“Relax. I know what you mean,” Lynox said. Thank God Deborah wasn’t in the vicinity and hadn’t heard Reo almost call her crazy. She would have flipped the script!

“So how are you dealing with it?” Reo asked. “Have you guys tried counseling?”

“You mean marriage counseling? Or like a counselor, therapist, or something?”

“Heck, both, if need be.”

“Once upon a time Deborah was seeing a counselor. It was very helpful. She was in a good place.”

“I can understand her not wanting to take any meds while pregnant, but why not continue to see her counselor?”

Lynox shrugged, then took a swallow of his beer. “Like I said, things were going well. We got busy. We got pregnant. I think she felt like she was okay. She had everything in life keeping her mind right and keeping her happy. Guess I ain’t doing the trick anymore.” Lynox guzzled the remainder of his beer.

“Oh, no, partner. I’m not even going to sit here and let you blame yourself. You are not responsible for somebody else being happy or unhappy. You can’t control other people’s emotions. Folks have got to get to the point in life where instead of chasing happiness, they create it.”

“I hear what you’re saying, brother, but happy wife, happy life. She’s not happy, and as a man, I can’t help but blame myself. Plus, kids pick up on their parents’ emotions. Our oldest son witnessed us getting into it the other day. It wasn’t pretty. I never want that kid to think I’m this big, bad wolf who is mean to his mommy, but, man, she be taking me there.”

“Maybe Klarke can talk to her.”

“Oh, no.” Lynox shook his head repeatedly. “If she thinks I’m telling another woman her business . . . no, thank you.”

“It won’t even be like that. I’m serious,” Reo said. “Trust me when I say Klarke knows a little something about this. She used to have her ups and downs emotionally, but she managed to get it all under control, in a way that I really never expected her to.” He let out a chuckle. “Kind of unorthodox, to say the least.”

“Now, your wife ain’t ’bout to introduce my wife into no mess where there are secret meetings and they have to wear masquerade masks, is she?”

Reo burst out laughing, spitting some of his beer out. “No, no, no. Nothing like that.

“Well, I had to ask.”

“Right, right,” Reo said, finishing up his beer. “How ’bout we enjoy another brewski and just shoot the breeze? We can reschedule working on the proposal for another time. Sound like a plan?”

Lynox exhaled. “The best plan I’ve heard in a long time.” He put his hand behind his head and leaned back. “You know, I feel good after having talked to you.”

“Can’t keep everything bottled up inside,” Reo said, scooping up Lynox’s empty bottle and heading back over to the bar area. “We have to be able to talk and express ourselves too.”

“Yeah, and you were cheaper than a therapist.” Lynox laughed.

“Oh, but you haven’t seen my bill yet. I’m taking this session out of your royalties on our book.”

Both men laughed.

“And I appreciate you agreeing to talk to Klarke,” Lynox added. “Just make sure she doesn’t let on to Deborah that I said anything.”

“I got you, bro. Trust me.” Reo walked back over and handed Lynox a second beer.

“I trust you.” Lynox smiled. The two clinked their bottles and drank. He trusted Reo just fine. It was Deborah he wouldn’t trust if she caught wind of the fact that he’d mentioned their issues to Reo. He said a silent prayer that that wouldn’t happen.